


One Life

by ShadesofSyn (Synful_Trixx)



Category: Glee
Genre: M/M, Multi
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2012-04-03
Updated: 2012-09-09
Packaged: 2017-11-02 23:16:57
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 6
Words: 11,833
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/374459
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Synful_Trixx/pseuds/ShadesofSyn
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>They were supposed to last forever.  Kurt didn't realise that forever was only a few short years.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. One

**Author's Note:**

> Beta’d by the lovely [unicornssaywoosh](http://unicornssaywoosh.tumblr.com/)  
> Inspired by [this prompt](http://glee-kink-meme.livejournal.com/22507.html?thread=27501035) at the GKM.
> 
> Original Prompt:  
> Seklaine. Blaine’s neglecting Kurt emotionally and sexually. Sebastian is outrightly emotionally and occasionally even physically abusive towards Kurt.  
> I want to see the last time the three of them have sex, then the next day, Kurt cleans the house one last time, packs up his things while the other two are at work, and leaves. He doesn’t leave a note. There’s nothing to say.  
> Blaine and Sebastian initially don’t know how to react. Blaine’s feelings towards Kurt had been waining, whilst Sebastian’s were growing. Their feelings for each other became purely physical whilst Kurt held it all together. Neither of them could handle it. And now it’s too late.  
> I don’t mind if Sebastian goes looking for Kurt and/or Blaine’s and his relationship collapses completely after Kurt leaves. Could end with Kurbastian, but I’d want serious apologies/grovelling on Seb’s part.  
> Bottom!Kurt, please, but not non-con.

The diner is practically empty; two working ladies sit at the counter, cups of coffee clutched in their cold fingers, warding off the chill of a late October night. Chipped Formica tables stand on cheap linoleum, surrounded by red vinyl seats, battered, stuffing practically gone after years of use. The diner looks rough, cheap, red and unpolished chrome. 

It looks how Kurt feels.

Forgotten.

It’s tucked into a side street, lost in a city full of new, exciting, next, big, bigger, biggest best things.

The waitress is old, older than a waitress should ever be. She should be at home, playing gin and chasing after chubby grandchildren. Her grey hair is pulled into a messy beehive on the top of her head, a slash of red on her too thin lips, a slash of blue on her eyelids, and two pencilled in eyebrows. 

They’re crooked.

Her uniform dress is red, or was red, faded to age and time, and pale powder blue, just the piping. The two colours don’t match shouldn’t go together. It seems that no one has told the owner that they have terrible taste in uniforms. It’s a form of cruel punishment to make anyone wear those two colours together. There’s a fleeting thought, that someone should inform them, that those two colours haven’t been acceptable since the early sixties.

Red and blue, the colour of blood and bruises.

There’s a palette of loss inside these walls. 

The white washed faces of the working girls, neon pink on their nails, black stockings on their legs, eyes the colour of fallen leaves and sorrow.

_Helen_. The waitresses name is Helen, it’s a fleeting thought. He’s come here often enough lately to know her on sight, to remember her name, but it’s something that gets lost in sorrow between the panelled walls.

Helen is a portrait of pain, age, and the tiredness that creeps into her walk. She moves around the tables, filling salt, sugar, pepper shakers, napkin dispensers, and coffee cups, not bothering to say a word.

He can’t remember if he’s ever heard her voice.

He wonders if it’s just as worn as the rest of this place.

There’s a half full cup of coffee sitting on the table in front of him. The cream and sugar is pale beige sitting in the brown stained cup. It has long since gone cold, but it reminds him, so he places his hand over the top of the cup every time Helen wanders by with a half full pot of too strong coffee. Coffee that is burnt, black, and inching up the sides of the glass pot with every halting step she takes.

He feels like he’s been sitting here for days, ass molded flat by the thin sheet of plywood covered by a thinner layer of cotton batten.

One of the working girls keeps glancing his way, taking in the designer pea coat, the tailored slacks, the impeccably coiffed hair, the appearance of money. She seems to be taking bets with herself as to the chances she could make a quick twenty in the bathroom. She’s slid sideways on her seat a few times, making to move, calling herself back, staring out into the cold darkness beyond the front windows.

Her Adam’s apple makes it a possibility.

He’s missing the connection, the feel of skin sliding slick on skin, the caress of fingertips trailing down his arm, the warmth of a body pressed close to his. He aches, desperate for human contact. Someone to just see him, for a moment, and he wonders if paying for that, for humanity, is worth it.

If he sinks any lower into the seat, he wonders if he would disappear altogether.

Closing his eyes for a moment, a minute, what feels like eternity, he shakes his head imperceptibly, trying to get a grip, a hold, a handle on the past year, his life, the infinite possibilities the universe seems to be placing out of his grasp.

He can’t see her, but he can feel her, hear her sliding into the seat across from him. Her coffee cup scratches the already worn Formica, click, scrape, and slide across the grey top as she slides further into the booth.

He doesn’t want to open his eyes. Doesn’t want to admit, out loud, to himself, to the world at large, how tempted he is by her silent offer.

“The world isn’t ending.” The offer isn’t silent any more, and he can’t help but open his eyes.

“I’m pretty certain it ended a long time ago.” His voice is low, lower than he normally speaks rusty with disuse, fatigue, sorrow.

“Now sweets, you can look through the glass beside you and see it’s still turning, still running, the world goes on.” Her voice is low, smoky, gravelly, bringing to mind bedrooms, sheets, panting breaths in the darkness. Kurt stares for a moment and amends his thought, back alleys and bathroom stalls.

It’s too much. Not enough. More than he’s spoken to anyone in three days. Closing his eyes he cocks his head to the side, weighing his options, words, thoughts out in careful measure.

“You… you’re looking for a… date?” Kurt allows himself to speak, softly, slowly, weighing the words on his tongue.

“I’m always looking for a… date.” She makes the same pause he did, does, careful and slow.

Eyes still closed, he wonders if anyone would notice, care, see the truth in his eyes if he were to, ‘date’, another person tonight.

The decision is made for him as his phone lights up on the table, vibrates and skitters across the sleek table top, until it’s stopped by his trembling fingers.

“Ahhh, another time then,” she winks, slinks away, slides back onto her stool in the corner.

It’s not the phone call he’s been hoping for, a gentle voice bringing him back, pleading, cajoling him out into the cold, into the dark, urging his feet toward home.

Instead it’s a text message.

A dry impersonal message, instead of the voices he’s been waiting to hear. 

_**Why aren’t you home? What’s for dinner? Are you bringing something home? Seb and I are starving! B** _

Never mind that he hasn’t actually been home since yesterday morning when he’d left for work at seven a.m.

Shaking his head he places the phone back on the counter. Lowering his eyes to stare at the dregs in his cup, face impassive as he lets his mind go blank, wander away, ignoring the need that’s beating in his brain. A need urging him that he must respond, that he has to answer. That they would really want to know, want to care, do love him as much as he loves them.

Helen wanders by, the too dark, burnt coffee in her hands as she proffers the pot.

He dips his chin in acknowledgment and doesn’t place his hand over his cup. He lets her fill it with the darkness spilling from the pot.

He wonders if he can disappear into the void created by the black hole contained inside the coffee pot glass.

The next text takes him by surprise, phone jumping across the table, hands scrabbling to catch it before it clatters over the edge.

Over the edge.

It’s how he feels. 

He’s gone over the edge and he’s not sure how to find his way back.

_**Don’t worry about bringing dinner home! We ordered Thai! See you soon Babe x Seb** _

A third message comes quickly on the heels of the second.

_**Unless you’ve already bought something in which case we can use it for lunches tomorrow x Seb** _

Kurt stares blankly at his phone for a moment, fingers moving towards the sugar canister, and the little pot of cream that Helen had placed on the table more than an hour ago. 

He’s not sure how to answer, what to answer, if he should answer.

So he fixes his coffee. Cream, sugar, hopes and dreams, all washing away in the tepid beige liquid, on the spin of his spoon.

He’s not sure where it all went awry.

He wonders if he’s the one that’s wrong.


	2. Two

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This chapter is slightly more explicit than the first. Kurt finds his way home.

It’s dark, cold, lost by the time he stumbles into their apartment. It’s not late, not that late, but all the lights are off. The dim shadows make the apartment look like what he’s been feeling for the past two days. 

Empty.

He’s empty and all he wants is someone to fill him up. Cast a light in the shadowy recesses of his loneliness until he glows with it, with happiness, love, laughter, anything but the aching void that is currently possessing him.

Toeing off his shoes, he silently makes his way into the living room, taking off his pea coat and laying it over the arm of a chair. He can’t bring himself to care enough to hang it up.

The mail has been left on the end table, a jumble of white and brown envelopes left unopened, waiting for him to open them, pay them, organize their lives into some semblance of order. Picking them up he absently looks through them; lights, cable, phone, water, bills so their life can run with orderly function.

Kurt can’t bring himself to focus, can’t concentrate on the feeling of the paper in his hands, he doesn’t feel the pressing need he normally does to open, organize, to fix all the aspects of their lives.

He drops the bills back onto the end table, barely noticing when they scatter and half the stack falls to the hardwood floor.

The remains of their dinner is scattered in empty cartons across the coffee table. They have been hurriedly eaten and left forgotten, left for him to clean up. He notices absently that they hadn’t saved any, hadn’t made a plate for him to eat when he got home.

He always remembered to plate up the leftovers for his absent boyfriends, making sure they were taken care of before he’d dispose of the left over cartons.

They’ve left the half eaten food out to spoil.

Moving past the coffee table he glances into their small kitchen, taking in the dishes scattered haphazardly across the black granite counter tops. They’re always leaving their mess behind.

He wonders if he’s the current mess they’ve unwittingly left behind.

Closing his eyes, he takes a deep fortifying breath. There’s no one here for him now. Nothing to stay for, nothing left of what they were. There hasn’t been anything for some time. 

The glass panes of their floor to ceiling windows call to him. The city beckons below, calling, waving hello from the streets, the bright red flag of cars passing by.

He’s not sure when he moved, why, how, but his fingers are pressed to the cold glass, breath fogging his reflection. It’s obscuring him from view and the metaphor can’t be ignored. 

He is nothing.

He isn’t here anymore.

Pressing his forehead to the glass, he rolls it back and forth, staring the eight stories down to the street below. The people are moving like tiny scurrying ants, cars whizzing past at alarming speeds. The working girl from the diner had it right.

The world hasn’t ended, it’s still moving, the city still breathing. Kurt feels like he’s standing still. As if he were stuck, glued, tossed back into the past.

He can hear the quiet murmur of voices from down the hall, harsh grunts, and breathless whimpers.

His feet carry him on. They take him down the hallway to their bedroom. What was his bedroom, but he acknowledges that it hasn’t been his in a while. He’s not sure if it ever truly was.

Standing in the doorway he can see them, naked, tanned, slick with sweat, straining against each other, Sebastian’s fingers are tangled in Blaine’s curls, pulling his head back, holding it against his chest.

They are on their knees, Blaine being held immobile by Sebastian’s fingers in his hair, one hand clamped tightly to his hip, pulling, pushing, keeping him in place as Sebastian slowly slides into his body. Sebastian’s eyes are closed, savouring, teeth biting his lower lip as he moves, graceful and sure. He tears Blaine down, builds him up, and breaks him to pieces with every move of his hips.

They are fucking each other on what used to be their bed, perpetuating the farce with whispered words of love, longing, soft breaths panted into overheated skin.

There’s no love here anymore.

Kurt can’t seem to look away, can’t close his eyes, can’t block out the image they make.

His boyfriends.

The men he’d planned on spending the rest of his life with.

He just hadn’t realised the rest of his life was going to be only a few short years.

Blaine whimpers, pulling Kurt’s focus from the gentle flex, flex, thrust of Sebastian’s hips. He whimpers high and keening as Sebastian adds a swivel to his hips, scrambles for purchase on Sebastian’s thighs as he’s held in place, mouth falling open and eyes squeezed shut as he comes apart.

Falls to pieces around Sebastian’s cock.

Kurt remembers when they used to wait for him to get home. As soon as he entered the apartment there they would be, eager and panting, nearly attacking him, with laughter, smiles, and hot eager hands.

He wonders when they stopped waiting.

His shoulder bumps the door frame and he realises he’s dizzy, holding his breath, lost in the moment of watching them. Glancing up towards Sebastian’s face, Kurt’s shocked to meet Sebastian’s hot eyes, blown wide with desire, black with it.

Their gazes clash and Sebastian’s hips stutter, falter, slam into Blaine with more force as he keeps Kurt’s gaze. He was watching Kurt as he pushes Blaine forward, push, pull, tugging him down onto all fours so he can grip both hips in each hand, toes curling into the sheets for purchase.

He stutters, slams, braces himself as he quickens his pace; see sawing back and forth without ever dropping Kurt’s gaze. Mouth open, panting, gasping for air as he falters, fingers bruising the tender skin in the hollows of Blaine’s hips, falters and comes without ever dropping his eyes.

Blaine whines, keens, hand going to his own neglected cock as Sebastian pulls out without consideration. He falls to his side, hand sliding, gripping, firm and stroking until he’s coming over his fist in long ropey strands.

There are no words. 

Sebastian stalks towards him. Eyes focused, intent, heavy lidded as his lids blink slowly closed. Open.

Kurt can’t breathe. He can’t draw air into his lungs as Sebastian comes, naked, towards him. He’s frozen, cold, afraid to move for fear that this is all a dream.

Fingers tangle in his hair, curl at his nape like they belong there.

There are lips, tongue, touch all in that moment and Kurt wants to cry at the difference. Their lips slide slick, spit wet and messy as they kiss.

Kurt can taste Blaine in Sebastian’s mouth.

Sebastian’s fingers tighten in Kurt’s hair, forcing his head back, causing him to wince at the sudden pain. Kurt’s eyes closed as he takes a breath, a moment, gathers the tattered remains of his control around himself, and pushes Sebastian back, away.

One of Sebastian’s eyebrows quirk, lips tilted up in a smirk, as he gazes quizzically into Kurt’s questioning gaze.

There’s no heat in his eyes. Kurt can’t see the fire that used to burn there.

Making his decision, Kurt nods to himself, fingers going to the button on his slacks, undoing the zipper, without breaking eye contact with Sebastian. He opens the fly, letting his hard cock hit the air, before placing his hands on Sebastian’s shoulders and pushing him down. 

If this is going to be goodbye, he wants to feel it.


	3. Chapter 3

He’s surprised at the lack of resistance, the easy glide of Sebastian slipping gracefully to his knees, grabbing hands reaching for his hard cock, guiding it to his waiting lips, sucking him down without a pause in motion.

He wonders if he got it all wrong, if he’s imagined the lack of care. The decline of their relationship.

Kurt’s eyes move to Blaine on the bed, taking in the supine form of his first love.

The deep blaze of green flares in his hazel eyes; jealousy, sharp and strong. He’s not staring at Kurt, but where Sebastian’s mouth is devouring Kurt’s dick. He doesn’t raise his gaze, doesn’t meet Kurt’s eyes in the playful manner he used to. It isn’t about Kurt anymore, isn’t about their love for each other. 

It’s porn.

Hot cock getting swallowed down by eager man on his knees.

Anonymous.

Kurt closes his eyes, sinking into the sensations of Sebastian’s wet mouth on his dick. His hands sliding into Seb’s silky hair, tugging like he knows Seb likes, guiding his head.

He opens his eyes, glancing down at the spit slick stretch of Seb’s lips around his cock.

Fuck it. The thought shatters his concentration, shatters his control as he pushes into Seb’s waiting mouth, sliding deeper, harder, using his fingers in Sebastian’s hair to control the movement. He’s not going to hold himself in check, hold back, be gentle and loving, when this is the last time. He’s saying goodbye, with every quick shallow thrust.

God damn, they’re going to know its goodbye by the end of the night. They’re going to feel it bone deep and aching when he walks out the door.

Sebastian moans, wanton, thick, letting his jaw go slack as Kurt fucks roughly into his mouth. Sebastian’s eyes are closed, his own hand gripping his hard dick as he pumps it in time to the thrusts into his mouth, thumb sliding slickly over the dark red head, firm pressure. His hand tightening on the thick veiny shaft when Kurt’s fingers tighten painfully in his hair, pulling Seb away from Kurt’s cock, up and off.

There’s an obscene trail of spit between the head and Sebastian’s mouth. 

Kurt meet’s Sebastian’s heavy lidded gaze, blinking slowly, fingers tightening in Seb’s hair before Kurt jerks his head back forcefully.

Sebastian just smirks, lips tilting sinfully, “We playing that game tonight, babe?”

Kurt stares, before tugging Sebastian to his feet by the grip on Seb’s hair. Holds him still as he presses forward, forces Sebastian’s lips apart with his tongue, plunders the hot musky depths within. 

Kurt can taste himself in Sebastian’s mouth now. Blaine has been washed away on a sea of pre-cum. Opening his eyes, Kurt makes eye contact with Blaine, watches Blaine’s eyes widen as he pushes Sebastian away, towards the bed.

Kurt strips his t-shirt off over his head, jeans pushed down his legs quickly follow, as he steps out of them and kicks them away, socks get toed off and he’s naked and stepping towards the bed.

“What’s gotten into you?” Blaine’s voice is low, husky, gravely with lust and want, eyes roving over Kurt’s lithe form.

There’s no words, no answer, Kurt hasn’t had the answers for a very long time. Instead he presses his lips to Blaine’s, kisses the questions away until Blaine is mewling into his mouth, half hard cock thrusting impatiently into the air. Sebastian sits on the edge of the bed, watching, eyes narrowed in speculation.

Without breaking the kiss with Blaine, Kurt stretches out his hand, waiting, feeling Sebastian grip his fingers, tugs Seb closer, as Kurt continues to devour Blaine’s mouth. Kurt drops Sebastian’s hand, fumbling in the sheets for what he’d seen when he’d walked into the room. Fingers scrambling around in the tangle of bed linens, before finally, finally, gripping the hard plastic bottle.

Kurt flicks open the container, coating his fingers liberally before using his dry hand to shove it back towards Sebastian; mouth wide and messy as he tangles his tongue with Blaine’s, spreads his legs, and lifts his bottom higher.

There’s no prep time, no gentle work up, Kurt starts with two fingers and presses into Blaine’s ass, fucking in hard and deep, swallowing his gasp of shock, eating down the small hiss of pain. Blaine is already stretched, sore, swollen, tender, and so, so slick, Kurt slides right in.

Kurt’s ears are trained for the sound of the lube bottle opening, the squelching sound of it sliding messy and wet onto Sebastian’s fingers, the three second warm up, and then Sebastian is sliding one finger inside him. Fucking him with that single digit, hard, fast, quick preparation, as Sebastian was always better at reading his sex signals.

Breaking away from Blaine’s mouth, Kurt gasps, breaths, drags air into his starving lungs, before taking his cock in one hand, tapping Blaine’s leg with the other, waiting until Blaine lifts both legs over his shoulders. Kurt scoots forward, Sebastian’s hand following him, still moving hurriedly inside Kurt. With the hand on his cock, Kurt guides himself towards Blaine, pressing forward, pushing through the momentary resistance, and sinking, sliding, grinding inside until their thighs touch. 

This is the moment that Sebastian decides to add a finger.

Kurt leans forward, bends Blaine in half, to reach his mouth. They kiss hot and messy, dirty, slick as Kurt’s hips thrust in time with Sebastian’s fingers.

“Hold still, Babe,” Sebastian growls from behind Kurt. The click of the bottle of lube opening and Kurt knows what’s coming, can’t help himself, he fucks into Blaine a little harder, bites at Blaine’s lips as he tries to control himself.

“I said hold still,” Sebastian grunts as he slicks up his dick with the lube, before shuffling forward. “You know this takes some manoeuvring.” Sebastian presses the head against Kurt’s hole, pushing, waiting, and Kurt bears down, thrusts back as Sebastian sinks in the first inch.

Kurt does know this takes effort, skill, but he also knows what works. Hips working frantically as he fucks into Blaine and fucks himself back into Sebastian’s dick. He works himself between the two of them, never letting his lips leave Blaine’s. Bites down on Blaine’s lower lip when he tries to draw back, take air into his lungs, end the kiss, bites down until Blaine’s lips plump and swell against his.

Sebastian is holding still, merely gripping Kurt’s hips as Kurt does the work, does all the work between them. Fucking Blaine and fucking himself on Sebastian’s cock.

It’s nearly too much. Not enough, everything in that moment.

This is goodbye, Kurt reminds himself.

He moves his hips harder, working himself between them in desperation.

This is the last time he’s going to touch them, kiss them… love them.

There’s a slight sob that escapes Kurt’s throat as he moves, lost in Blaine’s mouth, down the deep dark hole that exists in human existence.

“Shhh babe, we’ve got you.” Sebastian’s hands smooth up Kurt’s back, making a mockery of the tenderness Kurt used to enjoy.

 _‘We’ve got you.’_ You haven’t had me in a long time, the thought flitters through Kurt’s mind.

Until there’s no more thought, only the white behind his eyelids.

Sebastian thrusts roughly forward, using his body to fuck Kurt into Blaine, trying to take them both over, reaching around Kurt’s slack form for Blaine’s hard cock, jerking it quickly and efficiently. Blaine goes first and Sebastian follows, pulling out of Kurt’s slack body to come across his pale, milky back. 

Kurt’s collapsed on top of Blaine, head tucked into the curve of Blaine’s neck as he breathes raggedly. There’s conscious thought, feeling returning to his limbs. Sebastian is cuddling into their sides, pulling the covers up over them, reaching to turn out the bedside lamp before he cuddles close, and throwing his arm across Kurt’s back, tangles his leg between Blaine’s. 

They’re asleep in moments, as Kurt gathers himself, thoughts and heart.

Sleep. 

He’ll sleep until they go to work.

They didn’t notice he hadn’t said a word to either of them.

When they’ve left for work, he’ll say goodbye then.


	4. Chapter 4

Sebastian puts his key in the lock, trying to juggle his bag, three coffee’s and his keys. Usually one of his boyfriends would be home at this time of day, and he can’t understand why the door isn’t already unlocked, why they aren’t opening the door and helping with the load he is carrying like they normally do. Why they aren’t rushing to his rescue as he struggles and grunts over coffee, his work bag, and the keys that keep fumbling in his already full hands.

Finally he manages to get the door knob to turn, nearly dropping all the coffees in the process, having to scramble and move quickly through the door to keep everything balanced.

“Kurt? Blaine?” Sebastian calls out in annoyance as he moves into the kitchen placing the coffees on the table and dropping his bag.

Sebastian let’s his eyes travel over the mess still on the counter from the night before, wondering why Kurt hadn’t cleaned it all away like he usually did. Wonders briefly where Kurt is, since its Kurt’s day off and he’s usually bopping and singing around the apartment as he cleans. Shrugging off his coat, he throws it over the back of a kitchen chair before rolling up his sleeves. Glancing down he looks at his crisp white button up, the one Kurt had gotten him for his last birthday, and knew it wouldn’t survive dish duty.

Moving quickly through the shadowed apartment, Sebastian unbuttons his shirt as he walks, certain if he ruins the shirt, Kurt would have his balls, and not in the fun had by all way. He pulls the shirt from his shoulders, moving to the closet to throw it in the laundry basket Kurt keeps hidden from view.

The sound of the closet door opening is loud in the quiet of the room, echoing, and it takes Sebastian a moment to figure out why. 

Most of the closet is empty.

Sebastian frowns in confusion looking at the multitude of empty hangers, the empty shoe rack. It takes a moment to process, a moment for him to understand that it’s Kurt that’s missing from their closet. Sebastian and Blaine’s things hang neatly in their side of the closet, the one they share since Kurt had so much more clothes than they did. Now… every item of Kurt’s prized clothing collection is gone. Empty hangers line the bars in the side of the closet that belongs to Kurt. Empty hangers.

Sebastian’s brain stutters, stops, gets caught on that word. 

From the day he’d moved in there had never been empty closet space, the closet bulging at the seams from three fashion forward men living under the same roof. Now there is half a closet full of empty hangers.

And there’s that word again. The one that Sebastian can’t seem to wrap his mind around.

He knows in his gut that something is wrong. Something isn’t right and he can’t think straight enough to figure out what it is. Why there’s a closet full of…

Empty hangers.

He’s gripping the door frame of the closet with knuckles quickly turning white as realisation dawns, breaks, and tears through his mind. Taking a step back from the door, Sebastian stumbles, rights himself, turning swiftly towards Kurt’s side of the bed. He moves forward with purpose, pulling out the drawer and finding emptiness there too. Empty drawers, empty hangers, and Sebastian feels the world narrow down to these two facts.

Sebastian shakes his head, shakes the fear from his mind as he takes a deep breath, moves towards the bathroom. He knows that Kurt could theoretically give his clothes to goodwill so he could splurge and buy new ones without a guilty conscience. That he may have finished his book and given it away. That he might have gone on a cleaning spree during the afternoon alone and gotten rid of everything in the apartment. However Kurt had a few hundred dollars’ worth of creams, cleansers, and moisturizers on the bathroom counter. 

He grips the door handle to the bathroom, taking deep breaths to keep the panic at bay before he pushes the door open.

The counter is clean.

The counter is clean and there isn’t a bottle in sight.

Sebastian feels his breath stutter, stop, his chest feels like it’s going to explode, and the panic takes him over before he’s even had time to brace himself. He slides to the floor, boneless, lost and staring at the empty counter as everything slides into place.

Empty.

Everything is empty and Kurt is gone. Sebastian knows he’s gone with surety because those bottles would have to be pried from Kurt’s cold dead fingers before he’d be parted from them.

 

Later Sebastian remembers blinking. Slow, rapid, confused blinking as he sat on the floor staring at the empty counter. His mind couldn’t process what he was seeing, what he wasn’t seeing, and the reality that was threatening to break through.

Sebastian felt a hand on his shoulder, glanced up quickly expecting to see eyes the colour of the ocean, envisaging the smile and laughter that would accompany the telling of the story about how he’d freaked out over Kurt going out for the afternoon… but met honeyed hazel instead. He couldn’t stop the sound of disappointment that escaped from his throat.

“Seb?” Blaine questioned uncertainly, fear lacing his gentle voice as he took in Sebastian’s posture. “Where’s Kurt, Seb?” Blaine asked softly.

Sebastian turned his face back towards the empty bathroom counter, knowing that it would be answer enough.

Blaine turned in the direction of Sebastian’s gaze and felt his eyes widen at the empty counter. His grip tightened on Sebastian’s shoulder for a moment before he moved quickly into the bedroom, checking the closet, out into the hall and into the living room to check for any evidence of Kurt.

He found none.

Kurt hadn’t even left a note. 

He’d taken himself completely out of the apartment, their lives, gone without a trace as though he’d never lived there at all.

As though he’d never been a part of them at all.

Blaine made his way back through their bedroom, back to where Sebastian is still sitting on the floor, before hunching down, squatting in front of him.

“What happened? Did you guys have a fight?” Blaine asked gently, trying to keep his voice low so as not to startle his clearly panic stricken boyfriend.

“He wasn’t here when I got home. Neither of you were. I… I was going to do the dishes, and I was going to take my shirt off so I didn’t ruin it, because Kurt would get mad if I ruined it, it was the shirt he gave me for my birthday and he’d kill me if I ruined it… but he was gone, Blaine, all of him was gone.” Sebastian breathes the words out, not understanding what he’s saying, trying to get the words past stiff lips, trying to make Blaine understand that he’s not sure what’s happened.

Sebastian pauses for breath, closing his eyes, resting them for a moment before he opens them once more and turns his gaze on Blaine. “Why, Blaine? I don’t understand.” Sebastian murmured plaintively.

“Have you tried to call him? See where he is? What’s going on?” Blaine spoke low, voice gentle as Sebastian’s eyes glazed over, and panic makes his vision glassy.

“I didn’t even think. I didn’t…” Sebastian trails off as he fumbles for his phone in his pocket. After all the disappointments that day he’s sure if he can get Kurt on the phone that it will all be a misunderstanding, and Kurt’s just running errands, that he’s going to be home in a few minutes to explain the lack of him in the apartment.

Sebastian presses speed dial one and waits for the call to connect. Stomach dropping when the call goes straight to voice mail.

“Hello. You’ve reached Kurt Hummel. If this is about an audition please leave a message and I’ll get back to you at the earliest convenience.” There’s a pause, and a deep breath, before Kurt continues. “If this is… you,” he pauses delicately before drawing another breath the sound making the speaker on Sebastian’s phone crackle. “If this is you, then don’t call. Please.” Another soft sigh and the message ends.

“Kurt? I don’t know what’s going on, but call me baby. I’m worried.” Sebastian keeps his voice low, mellow, letting his concern lace the words. “Just… call me? Call Blaine? I don’t care which, just… let us know what’s going on?” Sebastian pleads before moving to hang up, at the last moment he presses the phone back to his ear. “I love you, babe. Come home.” Quickly pressing the disconnect button he stares at his phone mutely for a moment before glancing up and meeting Blaine’s eyes.

“I’m going to call Rachel, see if she can shed some light on the situation… or maybe Kurt’s actually there.” Blaine patted Sebastian on the shoulder absently, mind already preoccupied with conversations he could have with Kurt.

Pulling out his cell phone, Blaine pressed speed dial three and waited for Rachel to pick up. He let out a loud frustrated sound when Rachel’s voice mail kicked in after the second ring.

“Hi, you’ve reached Rachel Berry! Please leave a message! If this is Blaine or Sebastian, he’s not here, and wouldn’t tell me where he was going. Have a wonderful day!” Rachel’s voice chirped in his ear, the special message to Sebastian and himself making him frown in frustration.

“Well Rachel knows something. She changed her message to include us, to tell us she didn’t know where he’d gone. Which is utter poppy cock, by the way.” Blaine scowled at his phone before taking a deep breath.

“C’mon Seb, we’ve got some work to do.” Blaine pulled Sebastian to his feet, pulling him back out into the bedroom.

“Work?” Sebastian questioned, truly confused, “What type of work?”

“Well first we have to track down Kurt and then we have to figure out what the fuck is going on.” Blaine muttered, pulling out a clean shirt for Sebastian and thrusting it at him. “Sitting on the floor wallowing in self-pity that Kurt is gone isn’t going to actually bring him home. Where he belongs, or…” Blaine paused glancing up at Sebastian, “don’t you want him to come home?” Blaine questioned softly, fingers tingling, breath hitching as the thought fluttered and filled his mind.

“I don’t understand how you can be so calm.” Sebastian pulled the shirt over his head, slipped his arms through, and frowned fiercely at Blaine as he tried to get his trembling under control.

“I’m not calm. I’m terrified, but we have to actually figure something out before he’s so far gone he’s never coming home.” Blaine spoke quietly. “Do you want him to come home?” Blaine asked again baldly.

“Of course I want him home!” Sebastian burst out, lips quivering with the first sign of anger. “He shouldn’t have left in the first place!” Sebastian ground out as the first sparks of anger started to sift through him.

“Agreed. Now we just have to find him and convince him of that fact.” Blaine nodded decisively as he pulled Sebastian by his hand into the living room. “You phone everyone you can think of… all of our friends, his friends, his colleagues…” Blaine took a hitching breath. “I’ll phone Burt.”

Sebastian took a sharp inhalation of breath and pressed a quick hard kiss to Blaine’s lips.

“We’ll find him. We’ll bring him home. We have to.” Sebastian stated with utter certainty. A certainty he didn’t feel deep inside.


	5. Chapter 5

The diner is quiet, silent, stillness in the bright circle of lights. Kurt is sitting in his usual booth, the glass reflecting the light back at him, the darkness beyond the windows lost in his reflection.

The working girls are back at the counter, feet jiggling as they sip their cups of coffee, impatience in the wiggle of their shoulders. They want to be out working, earning money, turning tricks until the sun comes up.

This scarred and damaged place has become Kurt’s sanctuary, the one place he knows no one could, would, ever find him. His fingers drum on the table, tap, rap, tapping across the Formica as he works out the nervous energy that has been filling him since earlier in the day.

He’d done it.

He’d left. Packed up every single thing he owned and walked out the door. All of his worldly possessions were now in the one place he knew Blaine and Seb would never think to look.

Brittany and Santana had been surprised at him turning up on their doorstep, but they’d bundled him into their apartment without a word. They’d cuddled, wrapped around him as the sobs shook his shoulders, warming him from the outside as he’d been frozen to the core.

They hadn’t asked questions, hadn’t tried to pry the story out of him, and barely batted their pretty eyelashes when he hadn’t said a word. 

He wonders when the last time he’d spoken is, can’t remember, and can’t bring himself to try and find his voice.

His eyes are focused outward, outside the windows at the streaking of tail lights streaking past on the road beyond the glass, he doesn’t hear the soft slide of a body sitting down across from him until a throat is cleared.

“You look like the world really did end.” Her voice is low, lower than her soft and pretty face attested to.

Kurt looks, face devoid of recognition for a moment before he finally remembers. The diner, the night before he’d… before he’d… he’d spoken to her then, and it seems right, to break his silence to her once again.

“You…” He trails off, voice soft and hoarse from days of disuse, and after that crying, and despair. “You’re still looking for a date?” Kurt finds the words and the world crumbles down upon his shoulders.

“Not tonight, honey. Tonight I’m looking for a different sort of company.” She winks, adam’s apple bobbing in her throat as she swallows. Kurt’s eyes are transfixed as he watches the slick sliding movement below the skin.

“I’m not very good company.” Kurt admits, voice low, rough, lower than his soft and pretty face would attest to.

“Didn’t say I was looking for good company,” she waved the waitress, Helen again, over with a too large hand, and a delicate gesture. “Just said I was looking for a different sort,” smirking she waved imperiously at both of their coffee cups, “Another round, Helen, refills are on me tonight.” Her soft laugh tugged at something low and deep in Kurt’s belly, tendrils of despair snaking out and threatening to swallow him whole. Her laugh dripped sorrow with every soft exhalation of breath.

There’s fixing, cream, sugar, stirring of spoons with a gentle tinkle of sound, before either one of them speaks again. Kurt isn’t surprised that it isn’t him.

“Jamie.” Her eyes crinkle at the corners as she smiles, sipping slowly at her coffee, finding something interesting in the cheap formica counter top, not meeting Kurt’s eyes. “And this would be the part where you introduce yourself so we can move past the awkwardness of first introductions.” Her hands are fluttering, twisting, clutching at the coffee cup as though it’s a life line, like the next words out of Kurt’s mouth are going to tear the world asunder.

“Kurt.” He’s not sure what else she wants him to say, what other words she’s waiting to hear.

“Well, Kurt, I think we spoke about the world turning, spinning on, the other night. I’m pretty certain we came to the conclusion that it keeps going no matter how much we think it’s come to a stop.” Her slender shoulder shrugs, bob of her adams apple as she swallows another mouth full of coffee, peeks up at Kurt from under false lashes.

There’s a stunned moment where Kurt can’t draw breath, can’t seem to get his lungs to expand, as he stares into her eyes for the first time.

“You have the most beautiful eyes I’ve ever seen.” Kurt finally breathes, the words tumbling from his lips before he can help himself. Her eyes are a clear crystalline blue, barely coloured at all, crystal clear and so unbearably sad.

“You didn’t even look at me the other night, did you?” Jamie laughs, bitterness dripping onto the table, between her fingers, littering the seat and the floor around their table, shards of aching glass for him to navigate when he gets up from the table.

“I don’t think I’ve seen much, I’ve been blind for a while now.” He’s been blind to the rubble his life had become for such a long time, that the only thing left was the dust under his boot heals as he’d walked out of their apartment.

“Obviously not literally,” Jamie voice is strong, sarcastic, as she reads his mind, says the words he’s thinking out loud. 

“No. Not literally.” Kurt can’t help but lift the corner of his mouth, a smile trembling there before falling, all amusement fading as quickly as it had flashed through him.

Jamie’s eyes are searching, her expression soft, understanding, “You dying?” She asks for clarification, waiting for Kurt to shake his head before she continues, voice soft with an underlying tone of steel, “Then the world hasn’t ended, there’s always tomorrow, and it’s nothing you can’t walk away from, can’t rebuild something bigger, stronger… better?” She phrases the last hesitantly as she takes in Kurt’s downtrodden expression, the utter devastation on his face.

Kurt doesn’t answer, clutching his coffee cup, bringing the last cold swallow to his lips as he stares into the depths hoping for an answer to appear in the beige liquid. 

None is forthcoming.

Neither speaks, neither feels the need to continue with questions that neither one is willing, able, wanting to answer. They sit at the scarred table, wounds of their own hidden beneath flawless skin, aching and raw, as they get lost inside their heads, lost in the haze of painful memory that threatens to consume them from the inside out.

Kurt feels like he’s dripping the blood of the raw open wounds all over the table. 

After what seems like hours, Kurt takes a deep breath, sliding his empty coffee cup away, as he moves to the edge of the booth, getting up to leave. He can’t take the silence, and the way he feels Jamie knows exactly where his scars lay hidden beneath his taut skin, that she’s going to rip the weak scabs off at any moment if he gives her the chance.

“Not going to say goodbye then?” Jamie asks as she moves to stand as well, with a little huff of annoyance.

“No.” Kurt glances down, surprised at how small Jamie seems now that they’re standing side by side. “I’ve had enough of goodbyes lately.” He speaks low and soft, unhappiness colouring his tone.

Jamie looks up, meets his gaze for the second time that night and nods. “Then no goodbyes. I’ll see you around Kurt.” 

“See you around.” Kurt nods as well, shoulders hunched as he makes his way out into the darkness, into the night. He’s staying with Santana and Brittany until he finds somewhere else to live.

In reality, he’s staying with Santana and Brittany because he’s not sure he knows where else to be, where else to go.

He’s so very lost, and he’s unsure of how to find himself again.

He’s not sure how to be Kurt anymore.

Not sure how not to be _BlaineKurtandSebastian_.

**“Look. I know this doesn’t make sense. When have our decisions ever made sense?” Blaine’s voice pleaded from the floor beside the couch.**

**“Blaine…” Kurt trailed off, unsure of how to proceed without causing an uproar. Blaine could be mulish once he’d set his mind to something, and most times there was no talking him around to another way of thinking.**

**“No, Kurt, just no. There’s no arguing, no fighting, no talking about this until I forget, or change my mind.” Blaine crossed his arms across his chest, lower lip sticking out in a pout.**

**“Jesus, guys. Kurt. Give in already!” Sebastian laughed from the kitchen, sticking his head into the room. “I cannot deal with him pouting and giving us puppy eyes all night. I can’t.” Sebastian smirked at Kurt, making his way into the room. He pressed a quick kiss to Kurt’s lips, which lingered, expanded, turned into anything but quick. “Give in,” he whispered against Kurt’s lips, “We’ll live longer.”**

**Kurt shook his head, attempting to clear it. “That was wholly unfair.” Kurt glared for a moment before snickering, unable to hold in his laughter any longer. “Fine, Blaine.” Kurt conceded, keeping his eyes locked on Sebastian’s. “Sebastian will take you roller skating and out for cotton candy afterwards.” Kurt’s smirk spread across his face at the shock taking over Sebastian.**

**Blaine jumped from the ground and did a little booty shake in triumph, he stopped quickly, spinning on the spot and almost falling over. “Sebastian will take me? No. I wanted a date night.” Blaine’s lip stuck out once more. “Date night means everyone I’m dating. That means you too.” Blaine spoke slowly, enunciating carefully just in case Kurt didn’t understand.**

**“Yah, babe, if I have to endure the torture of Blaine hyped up on sugar with wheels strapped to his tiny gnome feet, I’m pretty certain it’s in the boyfriend hand book that you do as well.” Reaching over to pull Blaine into his arms, Sebastian rested his head on top of Blaine’s curls, waiting for Blaine to relax against him before pulling him in tighter.**

**Kurt threw up his hands, laughing, and feigning exasperation. “God! You two, you’re like a couple of twelve year olds! I’ll go, but you are both holding my hand.”**

**Blaine and Sebastian looked at each other for a moment before both shouting out an exuberant, “YES!” and pulling Kurt into their laughing arms.**

**None of the boys even noticed themselves slipping to the floor as they slowly collapse in fits of giggles.**

Kurt shook himself from the memory, aching, loneliness pulling him down, hunched closer to the sidewalk as if to escape the bitter cold rolling in the night. Lost in his own head Kurt didn’t notice the two men sitting on a bench across the street from Santana and Brittany’s walk up. He didn’t notice their avid gazes, their hungry stares as they ate in every detail of his appearance, or the tears in their eyes at his slumped shoulders and haggard appearance as he trudged through the front door and into the building.


	6. Chapter 6

“Kurt Hummel is unavailable, please leave a detailed message.” The voicemail toned and Blaine was left staring into space for a moment.

“I went to the park today, the one down the street from the apartment? I sat under our tree. I must have looked like an idiot sitting there for hours by myself. I kept thinking about the time you sat there with your sketch book, detailing the spring into scarves and bow ties, dresses and suits. Your hand flew like water over the paper, spilling the late spring sunshine across the page, and I was fascinated by the concentration on your face. I could see every line, every moment that you captured on that page in the entranced look on your face.” Blaine hung up the phone without saying goodbye, staring at their tree for a moment before he slipped his phone into his pea coat pocket and he turned and walked away.

“Kurt Hummel is unavailable, please leave a detailed message.” Sebastian trailed his fingers across the mural painted on the outside of their apartment building.

“I saw a man on the subway today, eating an orange. An orange Kurt, and all I could think about was that damn mural you painted on the side of our apartment building at three in the morning. Paint staining your fingers as you climbed up and down the ladder. The smudges on your up tilted face as you concentrated, trying to get each orange perfect in it’s imperfection. Imperfection… you told me that I’m imperfect with all my flaws and that’s why you loved me. That’s why you felt we’d make it, because of all the flaws.” Sebastian sighed as he traced one imperfect orange, traced over an orange blossom. He stared at the mural for a moment before hitting the end call button on his phone, keeping it clutched in his fingers. Closing his eyes, Sebastian leaned his head against the brick wall, regaining his composure, before he turned and walked briskly to the front door of their apartment building, disappearing inside.

“Kurt Hummel is unavailable, please leave a detailed message.” The voicemail droned while Blaine stared blankly at the sunset from their balcony. 

“I miss you.” Were the only words that Blaine could choke out before hitting the end button.

“Kurt Hummel is unavailable, please leave a detailed message.” Sebastian cursed as he waited for the tone to sound. 

“Kurt, fucking, Hummel. You need to come home…” Sebastian growled out before hanging his head. “Please.” The word slithered off his tongue, pleading and slippery as he forced it passed his lips. Sebastian Smythe never said please.

“Kurt Hummel is unavailable, please leave a detailed message, if it’s either of you, don’t. Just don’t.” Blaine stared at his phone in shock for a moment before speaking quickly.

“I got into an argument today with the dragon who lives upstairs. She wanted to know where my little woman was, all snide tone and condescending attitude. I couldn’t take it anymore. I know I’m always preaching about turning the other cheek and not letting people like that bother us, but… I just couldn’t take it anymore. I may have gotten a little carried away. I think I lost my temper… and all I could think was that you’d be so proud of me. Letting her have it in the middle of the elevator, I told her to kindly fuck off, and die. Oh god, I hope she doesn’t actually die. The look of shock on her face was absolutely priceless.” Blaine broke off with a watery chuckle. “The only thing she had to say when it was all over, was apparently my wife was finally teaching me how to use my tongue… my mouth opened before I could even think about it, and I told her that my boyfriend had taught me to use my tongue in high school.” Blaine laughed weakly once more. “I’m pretty sure she was practically purple by the time the elevator stopped in the lobby and she was able to step off. I think I was imagining things but I’m pretty certain I heard her laugh all the way out the door.” Shaking his head, Blaine hit the end call button on his phone, staring at the old woman as she whistled down the stairs and out the front door.

“Kurt Hummel is unavailable, please leave a detailed message, if it’s either of you, don’t. Just don’t. ” The tone took too long, what felt like hours too long, to tell Sebastian it was time to start speaking.

“Do you remember that café? The one Blaine, you, and I found during those first weeks we were together? We wandered the streets until the wee hours of the morning, all holding hands, laughing, kissing, stumbling through the city like lunatics? There was a small café, barely five tables for sitting room, and you said their coffee was like heaven, we could smell it from out in the street and it drew you by the nose until you were slipping out of our hands to follow the smell. Blaine and I laughed at you, following blindly along as you practically drifted in the door, I’m not even sure your feet touched the ground. God, I was so entranced by you both, I couldn’t believe you wanted me, wanted me to be a part of you. That stupid café, Blaine and I were laughing and it hit me. Hit me right in the gut that I didn’t really belong, that you were both going to wake up and you wouldn’t want me here… God Kurt, I was so certain that both of you were going to throw me out on the street as soon as you’d had your fill, as soon as you’d gotten your ya ya’s out.” Sebastian hung his head, took a deep breath, standing in the doorway to the little café. “I was so certain I was your experiment, yours and Blaine’s both. I was the nasty little secret you’d keep in the closet and never tell your little kiddies about.” Sebastian wiped the moisture from the corner of his eye before forcefully stabbing the end button on the call.

Hand on the door handle Sebastian took another calming breath before heading inside. It wasn’t the Lima Bean but the coffee was almost as good.

“Kurt Hummel is unavailable.” Blaine stared in confusion at his phone for a minute, nearly fumbling the device as the tone sounded.

“It’s almost summer in New York. The days are getting hotter, more humid, and my damn hair will not stay under control. I can’t remember the name of that product you bought me last summer when I had this problem. I’ve been trying to remember. I can feel your fingers in my hair, massaging it through, I can feel you kneading my scalp as you hummed along to some song in your head, but for the life of me I can’t actually remember the name of the product.” Blaine reached up and made a small sound of displeasure at the greasy curly locks that brushed across his forehead. “I must look like an absolute wreck.” Blaine ended the call as he fought a losing battle with his rampaging curls.

The small phone in his hand pinged with an incoming message. Giving up the losing battle with his curls Blaine opened the new text.

_It was from the Wen collection. Almond mint styling balm._

Blaine stared blankly at his phone for a moment before whooping and doing a little dance in place. Attempting to regain his composure he very carefully typed out the only thing he could think of that wouldn’t scare this tentative truce away.

_Thank you, my curls thank you, my five million and ten meetings thank you for saving them from the mess that is undapper Blaine._

Holding his breath Blaine stared at the screen, waiting to see if Kurt would respond. 

Shoulders slumped when the screen remained dark.

_I’m sorry. I love you. I miss you._

Blaine stared at the message for a moment, contemplating whether to send it or not. Kurt had finally reached out, it was only a text but he’d finally actually responded to something they’d said. It was a step, a small tentative step, but a step nonetheless. 

Shaking his head, Blaine quickly hit the send button on the text before he could change his mind.

The little check mark showed him that his message was sent. Closing his eyes Blaine hoped for the best.

“Kurt Hummel is unavailable.” Sebastian took a deep breath as the message played, closing his eyes at the sound of Kurt’s voice.

“I’m starting to think I’m a little pathetic. I’m everything I used to laugh at, everything I used to laugh at you and Blaine for being. I thought I knew what we were what we had. I thought it was your body I’d miss the most, but fuck… fuck I was so wrong.” Sebastian paused, took a breath, opened his mouth to continue, “I thought I’d miss the touch of your skin, the way we all fit together when we’re sleeping. The smell of your skin cream on my pillow, the way it lingers on my mouth after my good morning kiss. The way your mouth tastes when you’ve been eating oranges. The tartness of your tongue when you’ve been eating berries. The way your hand feels in mine the softness of your fingers from the moisturizer you use every morning, the sweat on your palms because I still make you nervous. I thought I’d miss all these physical things the most, but it’s not that, it’s not those things that make me miss you the most. That’s not the hardest part. Fuck, Kurt, I miss the sound of you singing in the shower when you’ve had a good day. I miss the sound of you singing in the apartment when you’ve had a shit day, the way your voice echoes through the rooms because you’re so damn mad at the world. I miss the sound of your fucking voice, and it’s driving me insane… because I can’t tell from your damn voice mail what you sound like anymore.” Sebastian broke off as he choked up, as all the words he had running through his head left him. 

Blinking roughly, eyes shut tight against the emotion threatening to choke him, Sebastian blindly thumbed the end call button. 

Blaine sat curled on their couch, the flannel blanket that Burt had given them for Christmas last year draped across his legs, snuggled down into the comforting heat. Sebastian was in the kitchen, cleaning up the remnants of a dinner they’d barely touched. Three months. Three months Kurt had been gone, and only one little text message of communication between them. 

Blaine glanced up from his fingers folded in his lap to stare into the kitchen to where Sebastian was working diligently. They weren’t the same. It wasn’t the same without Kurt here to hold them together. Any relationship they’d had had withered on the vine, making them virtual strangers, roommates, who were hurting together, instead of boyfriends who were grieving together.  
Blaine watched as Sebastian picked up his phone from the kitchen counter, watched as his body gave a jolt.

Sebastian dialled, put the phone to his ear, lifted it away to press a button, pressed it back to his ear, and practically melted to the floor.

“Seb?” Blaine’s voice wavered as he watched Sebastian’s shoulders shake. “What is it Seb?” Blaine carefully disentangled himself from the blanket, unfolded himself from the couch and made his way carefully into the kitchen. Kneeling on the tile floor beside Sebastian, Blaine placed his hand on Sebastian’s shoulder. “Seb? Come on Seb, you’re scaring me.” Blaine’s voice quavered as he watched the naked emotion on Sebastian’s face.

“Hold on…” Sebastian’s voice shook, broke, choked off as he pulled the phone away from his ear, putting speakerphone on, he pressed a button, holding the phone out to Blaine as if in supplication.

_“Hey… I don’t exactly know what to say. I’m not even sure I have anything to say to you or Blaine. I thought about what you said, that you missed the sound of my voice… so I thought… I could maybe give you that.”_

Blaine’s eyes had slipped closed at the first sound of Kurt’s voice, unconsciously leaning into Sebastian for support. They clutched at each other as Kurt’s voice filled the air around them, both taking deep shaking breathes as they recognized the song.

_“Now and then I think of when we were together. Like when you said you felt so happy you could die. Told myself that you were right for me, but felt so lonely in your company, but that was love and it’s an ache I still remember.”_

They listened as Kurt’s voice broke, the first verse full of tears and aching sadness. Haunting in it’s simplicity as he sang quietly into the phone. The loneliness was there in every word, every haunting note that came through the phone line.

They waited with breath held, clutching at each other for the chorus they knew was coming, the words telling them it was over, that the fight was lost before they’d really even gotten started, but it didn’t come. Kurt’s voice flowed effortlessly into the high notes of the female singer, soaring through the line as he fed all his hurt and anger into the words.

The message ended with a soft click, no further words necessary as the old song had said exactly what Kurt had wanted to say.

“He didn’t say…” Blaine trailed off, chest tight with emotion.

“No. He didn’t.” Sebastian face took on a look of determination, features tightening with the force of it. “What the hell did we do to make him feel like that?” Sebastian cursed quietly to himself, never loosening his grip on Blaine as they sat on the kitchen floor.

Blaine pulled back slightly, staring incredulously into Sebastian’s face. “What didn’t we do to make him feel like that?” Blaine snapped, tone hardening, trying to pull free of Sebastian’s arms.

“What does that mean?” Sebastian’s own voice sharpened, pulling free of Blaine’s grasp, putting distance between them.

“I’ve done nothing but think of this, think of what we could have done wrong.” Blaine closed his eyes, softened his voice. “Before… Before Kurt left…” Blaine trailed off, took a deep breath, steeled himself, “Before Kurt left, when was the last time we did the dishes? Picked up our own laundry? Do you remember the last time we heard him speak? Was it that last night? The night before? A week before? A month before?” Blaine’s voice got progressively louder as he spoke, words snapping out like the beat of a drum.

“I…” Sebastian trailed off, voice going quiet as he tried to think back… “Shit. Fuck. Goddamn son of a bitch.” He slammed his fist into the floor.

“Yah… I pretty much had the same reaction when I was trying to remember the sound of his fucking voice.” Blaine hung his head, taking shallow breathes as he tried to calm himself. He tensed slightly when he felt Sebastian’s hands on his shoulders.

“Fuck. I knew I was the worst boyfriend in the history of all boyfriends, but…” Trailing off, Sebastian pulled Blaine back into his arms, hugging him tight.

“If you are, then I’m right there with you. We didn’t think, didn’t think of anything but ourselves.” Blaine spoke low, miserably, voice trembling as he hung his head in shame.

“We’ll fix this. We have to fix this.” Sebastian murmured into Blaine’s tumbled curls.

“And how do you propose that?” Blaine’s voice came muffled into Sebastian’s shirt, but no less sarcastic for it.

“I have no idea. I’ve never had to woo anyone before. You both just kind of fell into my lap the first time,” Sebastian smirked, still clinging to Blaine’s solid frame. “You got any bright ideas?” The words were light, hopeful, and full of a light teasing that had been missing for a long time.

“I’ve never had to woo anyone either. All I had to do was stop being an idiot the first time, and open my arms to you the second.” Blaine laughed quietly at Sebastian’s huff of indignation.

“Open your arms, my ass. Kurt practically walloped you over the head with the obvious if the stories I’ve heard were true.” Sebastian laughed softly as Blaine cuddled closer.

“Maybe that’s what we need to do.” Blaine trailed off, voice thoughtful, as he mulled the idea over in his head.

“Wallop him over the head with how much we love him?” Sebastian snickered as Blaine slapped his thigh with an open hand.

“No, dumbass, open up our arms and show him what’s so obviously true.” Blaine muttered out, pressing closer, listening to the sound of Sebastian’s heartbeat. “That we love him, miss him, and that he belongs here with us.” 

“What have we been doing for the last three months? Giving him gentle nudges? Fuck, I’ve practically sobbed on those damn voice mails. They break me every time… and…” Sebastian stopped abruptly, voice catching in his throat, “He breaks me every time he doesn’t answer, every time I hear that stupid message telling me he’s unavailable… I know he’s unavailable that’s why I keep fucking calling.” Sebastian’s body was tense with pain, longing, hurt, stiff with all the pain of the past three months.

“Have you ever seen those long distance pillows?” Blaine spoke quietly, ear still pressed to Sebastian’s chest, soothed by the rapid beat of his heart.

“What the fuck?” Sebastian pulled back slightly to gape down at Blaine. “Are you, like, the king of random all of a sudden?” Sebastian asked before pressing his cheek once more to Blaine’s hair.

“Yep, King of all that is random and relevant, dumbass. The long distance pillow, I’ve seen it on the infomercials at two in the morning all those nights I can’t sleep. You purchase the set, two pillows, you program them with the system that comes with them… it records your lovers heartbeat, and when you lay down to sleep, it plays their heart beat… and when your other half lays and when both halves are in use it emits this… soft glow.” Blaine spoke quickly, never raising his head from Sebastian’s shirt front.

“So what you’re saying is… it would be like we were there with him.” Sebastian pondered slowly. “Who knew a good idea would come from late night infomercials.” He laughed softly. “How long would it take to get here if we expedite the shipping?” Sebastian calculated the time frame, wondering if they could have it before the weekend.

“Well…” Blaine trailed off, face heating in a soft blush.

“Shit. You already bought them! Why didn’t you tell me?” Sebastian patted Blaine’s back lightly in rebuke.

“Because I thought you’d think it was stupid and silly, and all that sentimental crap you’re always saying you hate.” Blaine mumbled, embarrassed.

“Yeah, but you and Kurt love that crap.” Sebastian’s voice sounded confused, as he soothingly rubbed the spot on Blaine’s back that he’d tapped moments before. 

“I already programmed mine. I actually just remembered because your heartbeat is probably the most soothing thing in the world.” Blaine cuddled closer, listening to the steady thump, thump, thump inside Sebastian’s chest. “I bought them almost two months ago, but then chickened out with all the radio silence from his side.” 

“But… it’s perfect. You bought two sets?” Sebastian asked, thoughtful.

“Of course, they don’t make them for polyamorous people. I checked.” Blaine chuckled, “The operator was completely scandalized when I suggested mentioning to the higher ups that it might be something to think about.” 

“I’m sure. She’s probably some backwoods religious nut who doesn’t have a clue about how the real world works.” Sebastian soothed, knowing the fact that practically the entire world didn’t understand their relationship upset Blaine more than the homophobic slurs they incurred occasionally.

“Oh, the polyamorous part wasn’t the part that scandalized her.” Blaine smiled cheekily up at Sebastian before pressing his face once more to Sebastian’s shirt and mumbling.

“What was that? I don’t speak mumbles.” Sebastian laughed as he watched Blaine’s ears turn pink.

Pulling back slightly, Blaine looked up at Sebastian from under his lashes, “I said, I asked her if they were stain resistant, and when she said yes, I asked her if they were bodily fluid resistant too.” Blaine’s flush at this point looked almost painful.

“Blaine? Don’t take this the wrong way but…” Sebastian smirked before placing a light kiss on Blaine’s lips, “I think you’ve been hanging around with me just a little too much.”

Blaine laughed, light and free, as he, once more, snuggled into Sebastian’s arms. “That’s exactly what I said when I got off the phone.” 

“So pillows, Mr. Smarty Pants.” Sebastian groused as he pushed Blaine away, struggling to his feet on numb legs. “Let’s finish my pillow… What was your plan with the… other halves? The ones that are supposed to be programmed by Kurt?” Sebastian looked thoughtfully at Blaine, trying to come up with a solution.

“I figured we’d program our sides, send them all to him with instructions and a postage paid box for him to send them back… it was the only thing I could think of… I mean there’s the slight chance he won’t do it… that he’ll cut them into little tiny pieces, burn them, and scatter the ashes to the four corners of the earth…” Blaine’s mouth turned down in a frown as he attempted and failed to gain his feet, holding his hands out for Sebastian to help him up.

“They’re pillows, not vampires. He’s more likely to return to sender.” Sebastian comforted Blaine with an arm around his shoulder, pressing the best case scenario. He knew Kurt was a little vindictive when he was hurt, so the cutting, burning, and scattering were a distinct possibility.

“Let’s get yours done, and we can hit the late night post office a couple blocks over. We can overnight them, and he’ll have them by tomorrow.” Blaine bounced on the balls of his feet with excitement.

“You sure you want to tip our hand? That we know where he is?” Sebastian stared at Blaine for a moment, watching the excitement shiver through his body.

“I’m not sure we have a choice. If we send them to the office we look like stalkers, if we send them to Burt… it’ll look like we’re trying too hard. By sending them straight to Santana and Britt’s we look like… we’ll look like, hey we know where you are, but we’ve been given you space to deal with anything you needed to deal with, look at us the understanding loving boyfriends that we are.” Blaine spoke softly, a hint of a smile at the corner of his mouth. “And if we don’t look like that… then we’ll have to try something else.” Blaine shrugged his shoulders before practically climbing into the closet to get the boxes with the pillows that he’d jammed into the back.

Tossing one of the boxes out to Sebastian, Blaine quickly tossed the second one onto an unoccupied piece of floor. “Just follow the instructions, it wasn’t that hard. I did mine in like five minutes.” Blaine muttered out as he fumbled his own box open, checking to make sure the contents were still as he’d left them.

Sebastian quickly got to work setting up his own pillow.

“You don’t think it’s… too hokey?” Sebastian questioned later, after they’d come back from the post office. Now that the package had been sent they were both feeling anxious with what they’d done.

“I’m hoping it’s just hokey enough, actually.” Blaine murmured. Shoving his hands into Sebastian’s pants pocket he quickly pulled out Sebastian’s phone. “Play it again? I want to feel like he’s here with us.” Blaine spoke softly, fingers stroking against the touch screen as he stared at it.

“Me too,” Sebastian murmured, pressing a soft kiss to Blaine’s forehead as he dialled into his voice mail.

_“Hey… I don’t exactly know what to say…”_


End file.
